


#1Kane

by trademarkgiggle



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Riding, hide the hair gel free kaner's curls 2k20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trademarkgiggle/pseuds/trademarkgiggle
Summary: can you believe jonathan toews invented romance
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 21
Kudos: 260





	#1Kane

He's lying on his back in an old UND shirt worn soft with too many washings when Jonny comes into the room. Patrick can see him in periphery as he leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest, which does amazing things to an already amazing set of shoulders. 

"You look like you've got something to be happy about," Jonny says. He's wearing a smile, too; within their little family of two, their moods are as infectious as ever. 

Patrick rolls on his side. He's _still_ grinning, can't stop it, even though his mind's half on ways he can produce more, maybe provide that little extra shove needed to tip them over into playoff material. "Gonna help me celebrate?"

"Saader's goal was pretty great," Jonny says, obviously pleased with himself. Patrick flops over on his back dramatically, and counts _one… two… three,_ and then Jonny climbs onto the bed and smacks a kiss on his cheek. "Aw, baby, you know I'm just kidding."

Patrick reaches up for him, and Jonny settles into his arms willingly, laying almost on top of him. Patrick likes that, the weight and security of it, and he likes it even better now, when even the pang of missing his parents can't cut through his thick cloud of satisfaction. He recorded his thousandth point, and now Jonny's so solidly present Patrick can't escape from him without struggling, and outside of their own little bubble the rest of the guys seem thrilled, too—buoyed and motivated by a good night.

Jonny props his head up on one arm and kisses Patrick, first on his cheekbone and then on the thin skin under his eye. 

"You giant weirdo," Patrick accuses. "You aren't trying to bite my eyelashes again, are you?"

"I don't try to _bite_ them," Jonny says, sounding hilariously offended. Which Patrick guesses is true enough, but he's still always nudging his nose along Patrick's face to feel Patrick's eyelashes fan out against his skin.

"Uh-huh." Even on normal days, it's almost impossible to contain his affection for Jonny—to the point that Patrick sometimes can't even look at him in public, because he knows that what he's feeling has to be scrawled all over his face—but tonight he's bubbling over with it. "Hey. What you did with the guys, getting them to clear the bench, that was… that was pretty cool."

"They probably would've, mm, done it anyway," Jonny says. He's worked his way from Patrick's cheek down to his jaw, where he nips at the corner and then soothes it with another kiss.

"I knew you made it happen, though." Patrick runs his hand up the back of Jonny's neck, lightly scratching at the short hair there. "Even before they told me, I knew it was you."

"Yeah?" Jonny says.

"Yeah," Patrick says. He lets his eyes slip shut, gives himself over to the feeling of being cherished. Jonny's kissing his earlobe now, and his other hand has fallen to Patrick's ribcage, where it strokes his side and then grazes over his nipples. He never knew it was possible to be loved like this until Jonny showed him; sometimes he still has to fight against the feeling that he doesn't deserve it, but the longer Jonny loves him, the more those doubts recede until they're little more than a distant memory. There's not much better than having a sweet, confident, attractive, accomplished professional athlete treat you like you're more necessary than the sun in the sky, and that includes both winning three Stanley Cups and hitting his thousandth career point. Too bad nobody else can compare the experiences, but Patrick can't bring himself to be disappointed that he's the sole focus of Jonny's adoration.

Jonny's licking and sucking down his throat now. "How do you want to celebrate?" he asks against Patrick's skin.

"Oh, do I get to pick?"

Jonny lifts his head up and kisses Patrick hard on the mouth. "Apparently it's your night."

"I don't know if you've heard," Patrick confides, "but I'm pretty good at hockey." Jonny snorts, but he starts laughing, too, which means Patrick won. 

"God, you're awful."

"Nah," Patrick says, "you like me," and Jonny grins down at him, every bit as satisfied as Patrick himself. It's like he can catch a glimpse of their future, what every day will be when their attention isn't divided between each other and a career that they both love but that also demands so, so much. "What do _you_ want?" he asks.

Jonny's eyes go even darker. They both know the pretense here is that Patrick's letting Jonny take the lead in thanks for arranging the dogpile, but they also know what's really going on: in bed, they like it best when Jonny takes charge. 

"Gonna thank me, baby?" Jonny says.

"Yeah," Patrick breathes, and then he yelps when Jonny flips them over so he's on top, splayed across Jonny. He huffs against Jonny's mouth in irritation, but it's impossible to ignore the way his cock hardens when Jonny tosses him around like this. 

"What I want," Jonny says, "is for you to ride me. Think you can do that?"

"I can probably figure it out," Patrick answers, and they work together to strip each other and dig out the lube from where it's wedged between the mattress and the headboard. ("Can't you fuck me without lube?" Patrick had joked after the first minute of fruitless searching, but Jonny went stern like he thought Patrick was serious. "No," he'd said. "I'm not fucking you dry just because you don't want to let me go long enough for me to walk to the dresser." Patrick had called him a cockblock and then they rolled around, wrestling gently, until they found the missing bottle.) Patrick's still a little loose from the night before, and it takes less time to stretch him open than usual; they probably shouldn't fuck around as often as they do on game nights, but it has yet to impact Patrick's performance. 

"There we go, baby," Jonny says once Patrick's all the way settled on his cock. "Look at you. Come down here." He goes easily, tipping down until he and Jonny are sharing the same breath. The penetration's less deep with them pressed together like this, but Jonny's version of shallow penetration is still on the deeper end of the scale. A sweet, confident, accomplished professional athlete with an enormous cock—Patrick really did hit the jackpot. On the other hand, Jonny didn't do too bad himself.

Jonny kisses him deeply, holding him in the place by the back of his neck, and then swats him on the ass. Patrick jolts around Jonny's dick and laughs, unable to even pretend to shoot Jonny a dirty look, and then he starts moving.

"Easy," Jonny says. His hands are on the small of Patrick's back. "Nice and slow, babe. There, perfect." A piece of Patrick's stupid hair falls across his forehead, and Jonny reaches up and sweeps it back. "Your hair's getting so long."

"Yeah," Patrick says. God, Jonny smells good.

"I'm going to get rid of all your gel."

Patrick snaps out of his sex haze fast. "Don't you _dare."_

"What? I'm just saying, when you wash all that crap out of it—"

"There's a long, proud tradition of hockey players wearing their hair like I wear my hair," Patrick argues. All the while he's moving, riding Jonny, rocking against him, generously letting Jonny's dick pull out of the tight clutch of his hole just so it can drive back in.

"Yeah," Jonny says, "but they don't have—"

"Don't say it."

"Fine," Jonny says, but he reaches up and tugs on one of Patrick's curls. When he lets go, it coils back into place, which probably proves his point better than if Patrick had let him speak. He slides his hand around to the back of Patrick's head and tugs gently, and Patrick, who decides to forgive him, ducks his head and kisses him.

"Look at you," Jonny says. "Nobody else gets to see you like this, do they? Only me."

"Yeah," Patrick says. "Only you."

"And you like that, don't you, Peeks? Like that you're all mine. Nobody out there knows, but you're all mine."

"I don't know." They're getting warm, Jonny especially; not enough to start sweating, but enough that they probably have matching flushes spreading across their faces. 

"You don't know what?" Jonny shifts, and Patrick finds himself being hiked up as Jonny gets his feet flat on the mattress. His next thrust has some real force behind it.

"Oh, fuck," Patrick says.

"Don't know what, baby?"

"Fuck," Patrick says again. "That, god, that no one out there knows. You kissed me in the middle of the ice."

"Maybe I was just happy for you," Jonny teases. "Just happy for a teammate."

"No," Patrick says. His dick's dragging against Jonny's abs, but even with as much as Patrick's leaking, it's a little dry. Before he can do anything about it, though, Jonny reaches down and collects a little of the lube slicking up Patrick's hole and then worms his hand between their stomachs to wipe his slippery fingers along Patrick's cock.

"No what?" he prompts.

"Jonny," Patrick says. "No, um—no, that you were just happy for a teammate."

"I wasn't?" Jonny likes doing this, too—likes making Patrick squirm and confess what he otherwise wouldn't.

"No, you were happy for _me._ Jonny, can I—"

"Not yet, baby," Jonny says. "Why would I be happier for you than I would somebody else?"

"Jonny," Patrick tries. He shouldn't still have trouble saying this stuff, but sometimes he does. Sometimes Jonny has to draw it out of him. 

"You want to come?"

"Yeah," Patrick says. "Please."

"Then you have to tell me, baby." He keeps up his steady pace, but his thrusts grow more shallow, less forceful. "Why was I so happy for you?"

"Because—" Patrick's voice cracks around a sob.

"Because?"

"Because you love me."

"Yeah, baby, I do," Jonny says. "I love you so much, Peeks."

"Me too," Patrick says, even though the breath has been punched out of him. Jonny has to know, it's critical that Jonny knows, how much Patrick adores him right back. "Me too, Jonny—"

"I know, sweetheart." 

"Can I—"

"Come when you're ready," Jonny says, and then he snaps upward _hard_. Patrick sees stars. Jonny snaps his hips upward again, and Patrick shivers, and then a third time, and Patrick—he can feel the warm wetness of Jonny coming inside of him—

And that's it: Jonny's climax tips him over into his own, and they strain and shudder against each other until the world rolls back in. 

One of them should probably at least make an overture in the direction of cleanliness, but Patrick's too happy to even think about moving. Jonny's cock, thick even when soft, finally slides out of him, and the mingled come and lube follow, but fortunately his partner is quicker on his feet than Patrick. He snags the UND shirt from where it's flung over the nightstand and uses it to mop up the worst of the mess.

"That's gross," Patrick says admiringly.

"You spit on live TV."

"You spit on live TV all the time."

"Guess we're equally gross, then," Jonny says. He settles back and draws Patrick closer, arranging them so Patrick's held close against Jonny's side. "Hey," he says. "I'm proud of you, you know."

"I do know," Patrick says. "You made it special."

"Good," Jonny says.

Patrick yawns and rubs his cheek against Jonny's chest. "Think we've got another ten years in us?"

"You do," Jonny says. He's playing with Patrick's hair again, stroking it softly, tangling his fingers in the curls. 

"You would, too, if you'd stop turning into an enforcer every time someone sneezes on me."

Jonny coughs. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh." He pats Jonny's chest. "Gotta figure out what to do for your big eight hundred."

Jonny covers Patrick's hand, presses a sweet kiss to his forehead, and says, "Baby, I'm going to celebrate by throwing away every tube of hair gel in this house."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] #1Kane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194369) by [nat reads (natashastarkk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashastarkk/pseuds/nat%20reads)


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